


Dreadsong

by MerryLittleMess



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy, star wars the
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Badass, Dialogue Heavy, Force Tree, Heavy Angst, Hurt/Comfort, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Inappropriate Use of the Force, Jedi Mind Trick, Kylo Ren Being a Little Shit, Maybe not a oneshot, One Shot, POV Poe Dameron, Poe Needs A Hug, Poe needs a past, Sith, Sorry Not Sorry, The Force, standoff - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-26
Updated: 2017-12-26
Packaged: 2019-02-20 16:16:04
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,489
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13150329
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MerryLittleMess/pseuds/MerryLittleMess
Summary: He swallows painfully, careful not to move. After all, it’s not the stale air keeping him kneeling in front of the wrecked X-Wing fighter. It’s not the cold or the quiet either. In fact, Poe is rather warm with Kylo Ren’s red lightsaber hovering inches from his exposed neck.





	Dreadsong

**Author's Note:**

> Hi there, dear reader.  
> This is my first Star Wars fanfiction, so please be kind.  
> If you'd like me to extend this one shot, just let me know in the comment section below.

**Dreadsong**

The air on Iieno-7GT5 reminds Poe of Dagobah, wrapping around him in the same oppressive fog that lingers on your tongue and in the back of your throat. It’s colder, though, colder and unnaturally quiet. Only his racing heartbeat seems to break the silence, a loud double beat to his own ears. Du-dunn. Du-dunn. Like the drums of war in their frantic rush it thuds, but on the outside he’s the calm before the storm.

  
He swallows painfully, careful not to move too much. After all, it’s not the rancid air keeping him kneeling in front of the wrecked X-Wing fighter. It’s not the cold or the quiet either. In fact, Poe is rather warm with Kylo Ren’s red lightsaber hovering inches from his exposed neck. Not like he’d need it to keep a lowly resistance pilot down, Poe thinks as he remembers all too vividly how the Sith could freeze him like a living popsicle with just a thought. However, Kylo seems a little shaken at the moment. His lightsaber is tottering ever so slightly, causing the heat on Poe's skin to vary from hot shower to scalding bonfire sparks.

  
“We really ought to stop meeting like this”, Poe quips and flashes Ben a grin that falls just short of a grimace. Ben is not amused. As he leans in, the lightsaber is pushed marginally closer and Poe starts to sweat. There is a buildup of pressure in his head. His heart skips a beat and sharp brown eyes dart to read Kylo’s face.

  
“W-what are you doing?” Already he knows the answer, or at least part of it. His movements are sluggish and the world becomes pitch black for a second while he blinks in slow motion. Kylo is using the Force on him, slowing him, freezing, controlling… his mind is spinning, but he’s still fighting. Perhaps it is his hard-earned experience with mind reading, but this time Poe can feel the Sith burrow into his mind like an exogorth – giant, yet blindly worming his way deeper. Poe is not an asteroid, though, so he decides to fight back and grabs the first memory that comes to mind and hurls it at the invader.  
Rey is moving the boulders away from their exit on Ach-To. Finn is smiling at him in the cockpit of the Falcon. Leia is issuing orders on Yavin-4. Him, Jessika Pava and a few other pilots are drinking in the mess hall. The further he reaches, the more images bubble up and drown them in a kaleidoscope of colors.

  
**Stop that.** Kylo’s voice thunders silently through his head. He sounds annoyed, prompting a picture of the expression to pop up in Poe’s mind even though his eyes have closed on their own volition.

  
**I’m just getting started** , Poe tries to reply and if the anger pulsing through his veins is any indicator, the message has been received.

  
**I will find what I need eventually. You might not be alive by then** … Is it a threat? No, it is stated more like a fact and with what little awareness Poe has left, he can feel warm blood run down his nose and over his lips. He might actually be dying.

  
**Is it worth it? Do you want to die for this?**

  
**I’m with the resistance. We resist. This is kinda our thing,** Poe thinks dryly, at which point Kylo manages a mental huff. They both know that the pilot desperately wants to live. Nonetheless, they also have gotten a glimpse of the durasteel nerves and principles inside him.

  
**I am not looking for information on your doomed band of ragtag accomplices. I want to know what you did.** It’s the truth – superciliously spoken by the leader of the First Order. Poe wants to laugh at the irony, but the pain is making itself know now and he feels more like crying or thrashing about in agony. Of course Kylo recognizes that, too.

  
**I could stop. Just tell me what you did.**

  
**Me? I kriffing crashed on this Force forsaken planet for no reason…** They see it like a movie, watching the atmosphere of the planet fold in an impossible movement. It engulfs the rebel ans First Order ships above its skies in a stream of fog as if it were a sentient being. Pulling them down against the surface, cracking them open like peanuts. It’s a miracle any of them survived the impact. The pilot balls his fists and tries to disengage from Kylo’s grip. The saber follows the tiny movement.

  
**Stay still or I will behead you here and now. There is something… you did something… I can feel it… show me…** the worm is deeper now, deeper than Poe can reach with his defense mechanisms and mindless memories. He struggles to breathe, close to a panic until suddenly, the feeling vanishes as if somebody had pressed a button. His shoulders relax as he slowly finds a bearable breathing rhythm again. Satisfaction flows through him, but it is not originating from him, a foreign thing.

  
**There. You’re fine. Now let me see what you’ve hidden all this time, Dameron.**

  
**Nothing. There is nothing there.**

  
**Liar.**

  
**We’re in my head. How am I supposed to lie to you, shithead?**

  
**You have not known.** The Sith Lord sounds surprised. Then Poe receives an image of Ben smirking at him. **Of course you haven’t. I would have seen it during out last encounter otherwise.**

  
**What are you…?** Talking about, he wants to ask. He can feel it, though, it’s stirring in his core. Unspeakably old and at the same time as familiar as if it were his own bone marrow. Hot and burning and… Poe gasps. Kylo Ren whips his light saber back as the other man’s leg’s give out. He crashes to the barren ground and writhes in agony, feet kicking out feebly as a guttural scream is torn loose. His cheek scrapes across the sharp edges beneath him. He throws his head back and roars, rolls onto his back, hooking his curled fingers into the ground. His lip is bleeding, or is it his tongue or his mind or his eyes or his lungs…

  
The foreign tranquility appears again, crushing the panic under a black leather Sith boot. Kylo Ren is looking down at him with a curious expression. The lightsaber is off, stored on the belt of the dark outfit. Poe wishes he were armed even though his cramping limbs could never hold a blaster right now, let alone aim and pull the trigger.

  
“W-- whaddid y-y-ou d-do?”, he manages to press through bone-breakingly hard clenched teeth. His heart is racing even faster now, not influenced by the forced calmness. He’s helpless, confused, in pain. Kylo shrugs indifferently and crosses his arms in front of his chest. They stare at each other for some unmeasured period of time, Kylo seemingly thoughtful, whereas Poe simply tries not to pass out while the aftershock of whatever the hell just happened rages through his exhausted body.

  
**Something has awaken. What are you, Poe Dameron of the Resistance?** The invading pressure is back again, Kylo digging ruthlessly through his brain, pushing, pricking at something that Poe has never felt within himself. He’s no longer careful and Poe groans as the Sith tears through mental shields as if they were sandcastles in front of the tides. So this is what true power feels like, Poe thinks. All at once something rises to meet it, a tidal wave of rage coming from the resistance pilot himself. He’s so fed up with taking abuse, of being a victim in another man’s game.

**Get out!**

  
One mighty shove and he’s alone in his mind. Immediately he can feel Kylo battering at his mental walls, but the fighter pilot is within his X-Wing and nothing can get to him there. He imagines himself in the small cockpit and it feels like home. Something settles.

  
As Poe slowly opens his eyes, he realizes that he is no longer shaking. His pulse is fast and steady beneath his skin and the heavy breathing doesn’t solely belong to him. Kylo Ren looks even more shaken than at the start of their surreal meeting.

  
“What are you?”, Kylo repeats, brushing his hair from his sweaty forehead. Poe doesn’t answer. He braces himself for another violent confrontation, one weary eye on the lightsaber at all times. However, the Sith boy seems to have no intention of killing the pilot. Instead, the thoughtful look is back.

  
“What are you staring at?”, Poe says, finding his voice hoarse but intact. He forces a flippant smirk onto his bloody and grimy features to go with the brash question. Kylo shrugs, wordlessly and soundlessly turns on his heel and marches into the mysterious grey fog of Iieno. The pilot witnesses the graceful exit without moving his own body. His heart pounds like a V49 podracer engine and it never stops.

**Author's Note:**

> So... do you have any theories regarding Poe's newfound ability?


End file.
